A Break From Writing -- 2013 Grammys

For three and a half hours I watched the Grammy’s tonight. (Seriously, Grammy’s, some of us have lives, you know?) If it hadn’t been for the fact that I’m teaching this class, I wouldn’t have bothered. It was a broadcast full of strange and irrelevant moments. (Johnny Depp’s ten-second cameo, anyone?) And it served as a reminder that, with each passing year, these award shows become less and less important. There’s hardly anyone left to hand the little statues to anymore, anyway.

That said, I feel obligated to find something to say about the whole ordeal, so here it goes. The highlights according to Kap. If you don’t agree . . . well . . . consider this: I’m just glad it’s over.

THE BAD

Taylor Swift's Carnival Act: Tonight’s opening performance by Taylor Swift had all the subtlety of a Chuck E. Cheese commercial. Let’s get this out of the way now: I’m putting aside the question of whether or not Swift ratted out whichever weasely ex-boyfriend she’s writing songs about nowadays (as so many media outlets are already alleging). Why, you ask? Because I can’t think of anything I could possibly care less about. That’s the problem with tonight's squirrely performance of “We are Never Ever Getting Back Together”—it left us with nothing else to talk about, which is strange given the amount of bedazzling that went into creating this larger-than-life spectacle.

I tried to my hardest to ferret out the meaning of her act—the Tom Petty/ringmaster outfit, the psychedelic wheel of death, the weird carney riding a recumbent bike outfitted with what appeared to be a flamethrower—but in the end it just didn’t add up to anything for me—it was like a cross between Alice in Wonderland, Barnum and Bailey, and Alvin and the Chipmunks on Ice. Unfortunately for Swift, her vocals were a little on the hairy side, too. You know that edge-of-your-seat feeling you get when you are listening to someone battle through the National Anthem and you know they are just one tiny squeak away from disaster? That’s sort of how I felt about tonight’s opening act.

 
Ed Sheeran and Elton John's weird duet: This wasn’t the full-on spectacle of Taylor Swift. (Sure, EJ was rocking on a sparkly jacket, but for him, that’s downright subdued.) In fact, the problem with this number is that it went too far the other way: It was flat-out boring. The LA Times’ Todd Martens puts it best when he says, “With all its references to angels—flying angels, freezing cold angels, dying angels—this was a sudden momentum killer after Swift’s Halloween show. But if you’re going to write a song with important-sounding lyrics with angels, may as well have Elton John to play along.”

 
Maroon 5 and Alicia Keys' weird duet: What is it with the Grammy’s pairing up strange acts? I can’t imagine anyone clamoring for this duet. “Girl on Fire” is a beautiful song (even if it is overplayed already). “Daylight” is the kind of song that forms the soundtrack for your dinner at Applebee’s. Together they made for a bizarre and unbalanced mix with Keys overpowering Adam Levine at every turn.

 
Qantas opening for Frank Ocean: This was the year of Elton John, apparently, with Spanish musician Qantas playing an odd cover of Elton John’s “Your Song” that somehow segued into Frank Ocean singing about “Forest Gump” while standing in front of a projection screen that made it look as though his legs were running independently from the rest of his body. Yes, this is every bit as disturbing as it sounds. I think both of these guys are talented musicians, but this just goes to show you that not every inventive idea is a good one.

 
No Dick Clark: The guy was one of the most influential music personalities of the last sixty years and he barely gets a mention. What’s up with that?

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Hip-hop's next big star?

UP FOR DEBATE

Miguel and Wiz Khalifa offering up a weird segue: Miguel seems like a really talented young artist with a smooth voice. It would have been nice to let him perform alone without Khalifa’s ugly suit getting in the way. (Seriously, he needs to go on tour with that guy in the question mark jacket who tells you how to get money from the government.) Khalifa barely uttered two words, other than to offer up a weird segue into the announcement of Best Country Solo Performance. (Really? This was all a build-up to Best Country Artist? Sure, why not? It’s not as though the rest of the show had made much sense up to that point.)


Fun.: Is it bad when their acceptance speech was more entertaining than their live performance. The problem with these guys is that they live down to their punctuation. It’s as though they’re afraid they’ll lose all hipster street cred if they’re caught being too enthusiastic.


Jack White's amps going to 11: This is a tough call. On one hand, it seemed like Jack White really rocked it. On the other hand, who could tell given how high he’d cranked the volume and how close he was standing to the drums and keyboards. If you like your rock to sound as though it’s being blasted through your high school’s PA system, then this was the performance for you.

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THE GOOD (FINALLY)

Tributes to Dave Brubeck (featuring Chick Corea, Stanley Clarke, and Kenny Garrett), Bob Marley (featuring Sting, Bruno Mars, Rihanna, and Marley’s sons) and Levon Helm (featuring Elton John, Zac Brown, Mumford and Sons, T. Bone Burnett, Mavis Staples, and Brittany Howard): In a stronger year, these medleys would fall into the “up for debate” category, especially after Elton John’s hammy dedication to the victims of Sandy Hook (as though an impromptu shout-out during the Grammys really amounts to anything for those families. Rock and roll, your benevolence knows no bounds.) That these three tribute medleys were highlights this year is more a comment on the state of the Grammys than the performances themselves. That said, Sir Elton redeemed himself with some very smooth singing. Bruno Mars sounded great. So did Brittany Howard. And it was nice to see Sting dusting off that seminal Police tune “Walking on the Moon” without . . . you know, turning it into an early-Renaissance lute ballad or something.

Kelly Clarkson singing “Natural Woman” and “Tennessee Waltz”: Not a huge Kelly Clarkson fan, but did you hear her belt out “Natural Woman?” Damn.

The Black Keys performing with Dr. John, and the Preservation Hall Jazz Band: This cacophonous performance of “Lonely Boy” was well timed. It was the pick-me-up the show really needed after Maroon 5 and Alicia Keys. Besides, Dr. John’s feathered headdress was tremendous, admit it. 

Yes, those are genuine Griffin feathers Dr. John is sporting . . .

Katy Perry somehow managing to crack jokes and hold her breath at the same time. I was saying something about Dr. John's tremendous headdress, but now I forget. . . .

Prince: So they announced that Prince would be handing out the award for best Record of the Year, and a weird purple fog rolled in from nowhere, and suddenly he was just standing there—the man himself, having materialized before our very eyes. He wore some sort of designer hoodie that probably cost more than my car, and he carried a white cane, and I swear to you, his feet didn’t touch the stage once. Prince just sort of levitated there, staring out at the crowd as though to say, “consider yourselves lucky I even bothered to roll out of bed for this,” and (with all due respect to Katy Perry’s cleavage) it was somehow the single sexiest thing that happened all night. What is it with this guy?

LL Cool J giving it his all: There are going to be people who pan Cool J for going overlong on some of his speeches, for being a little maudlin, a little too sincere, but for the most part he was the only person there treating this thing like an awards show, and he did a good job. He also put in one of the better performances of the night at the end with rap legend Chuck D, Rage Against the Machine guitarist Tom Morello, and Blink-182 drummer Travis Barker (who, despite being in one of the lamest bands of my youth, is actually a very talented drummer). It’s just a shame that even when the Grammys does something right, they have to find a way to screw it up. In this case, it was the decision to cut Cool J and co. off to show a stupid airline commercial. Yeah. Note to the Grammy Foundation: You guys really know how to bring the house down.